The Satyr's Curse (The Satyr's Curse Series Book 1) by Alexandrea Weis Page B
Authors: Alexandrea Weis
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But this isn’t over.” He turned from her and marched toward the living room entrance.
After Kyle had slammed the front doors closed, Jazzmyn let her body sink back down on the green sofa.
“Now he’ll be impossible,” she complained to the empty room.
When she looked up, she caught sight of the portrait of Odette Livaudais above the mantle. Her mind became engrossed with the plight of the young girl and wondered how Odette could have been so driven to despair that she felt compelled to take her own life. Then Jazzmyn recalled her afternoon with Julian, visiting his home, and the strange tale he had told her of the cruel man who had forced Odette to choose suicide over matrimony.
“Maybe I should take a tip from you and stay away from anyone with the name of Julian Devereau.” She sighed as she remembered the way Julian felt against her, how the nearness of him caused her palms to break out in a sweat. “But I really want him, and I don’t know why.”
Soon the memory of Kyle’s kiss only seemed to add to her confusion. “I know I don’t want him, so why did I kiss him?”
Jazzmyn leaned forward and buried her head in her hands. She struggled to put her feelings for both men in perspective, but after several seconds she gave up. When she lowered her hands away from her face, Mr. JP was standing by the sofa, staring up at her.
“At least I know how I feel about you, big guy.” She scooped the gray tabby up in her arms and stood from the sofa. “Tonight, I can guarantee, you will be the only man I end up sleeping with.”
She carried Mr. JP to the entrance of the living room and reached for the light switch. After she turned off the lights, she noted how the streetlights beyond the french windows cast a pale glow in the living room. Her eyes traveled to the painting of Odette above the fireplace mantle.
“What did he do to you?” she whispered to the portrait.
Jazzmyn shrugged off her curiosity and snuggled her head against a relaxed Mr. JP in her arms. She turned from the living room and headed toward the grand oak staircase. Deciding she had enough problems in her life to consider, Jazzmyn pushed Odette’s unhappy ending from her mind. Odette’s sad life had nothing to do with her. It all happened so long ago, and the hapless circumstances encountered by a heartbroken young girl were fodder better saved for romance books and ghost stories. Jazzmyn reasoned that in today’s busy, technologically driven world, the past was something that no one cared about anymore; except, of course, when watching Jeopardy .
Chapter 9
The following morning Jazzmyn set out early for the restaurant, hoping to be gone before Kyle arrived on her doorstep. She wanted to avoid being around him anymore than necessary, and she also needed some time to think before her day began.
As Jazzmyn walked the few blocks to Magazine Street, she noticed how the aroma of spring hung in the misty morning air. The cracked and buckled sidewalk beneath her feet was covered with a fine yellow film of pollen cast off from the thick oak trees lining Fourth Street. Even a few of the cars parked along the curb were laden with the stuff. It was a sure sign that spring had taken hold in New Orleans when cars could be seen darting about the city with the same yellow sheen.
She made her way past the many opulent Garden District homes, yawning repeatedly. Jazzmyn had spent most of the night tossing about in her bed. Images of Julian, and even Odette’s painting, kept wafting in and out of her mind. But the real reason for her restless sleep was not her growing interest in Julian, but her unexpected reaction to Kyle’s kiss. Where had that come from? She knew she cared for Kyle, but want him? Feel desire for him? She had never felt that for him in the past. Well, that wasn’t completely true. There was that one night. Jazzmyn always believed it was the tequila, and not passion, that had motivated their tryst. Now, she wasn’t so
After Kyle had slammed the front doors closed, Jazzmyn let her body sink back down on the green sofa.
“Now he’ll be impossible,” she complained to the empty room.
When she looked up, she caught sight of the portrait of Odette Livaudais above the mantle. Her mind became engrossed with the plight of the young girl and wondered how Odette could have been so driven to despair that she felt compelled to take her own life. Then Jazzmyn recalled her afternoon with Julian, visiting his home, and the strange tale he had told her of the cruel man who had forced Odette to choose suicide over matrimony.
“Maybe I should take a tip from you and stay away from anyone with the name of Julian Devereau.” She sighed as she remembered the way Julian felt against her, how the nearness of him caused her palms to break out in a sweat. “But I really want him, and I don’t know why.”
Soon the memory of Kyle’s kiss only seemed to add to her confusion. “I know I don’t want him, so why did I kiss him?”
Jazzmyn leaned forward and buried her head in her hands. She struggled to put her feelings for both men in perspective, but after several seconds she gave up. When she lowered her hands away from her face, Mr. JP was standing by the sofa, staring up at her.
“At least I know how I feel about you, big guy.” She scooped the gray tabby up in her arms and stood from the sofa. “Tonight, I can guarantee, you will be the only man I end up sleeping with.”
She carried Mr. JP to the entrance of the living room and reached for the light switch. After she turned off the lights, she noted how the streetlights beyond the french windows cast a pale glow in the living room. Her eyes traveled to the painting of Odette above the fireplace mantle.
“What did he do to you?” she whispered to the portrait.
Jazzmyn shrugged off her curiosity and snuggled her head against a relaxed Mr. JP in her arms. She turned from the living room and headed toward the grand oak staircase. Deciding she had enough problems in her life to consider, Jazzmyn pushed Odette’s unhappy ending from her mind. Odette’s sad life had nothing to do with her. It all happened so long ago, and the hapless circumstances encountered by a heartbroken young girl were fodder better saved for romance books and ghost stories. Jazzmyn reasoned that in today’s busy, technologically driven world, the past was something that no one cared about anymore; except, of course, when watching Jeopardy .
Chapter 9
The following morning Jazzmyn set out early for the restaurant, hoping to be gone before Kyle arrived on her doorstep. She wanted to avoid being around him anymore than necessary, and she also needed some time to think before her day began.
As Jazzmyn walked the few blocks to Magazine Street, she noticed how the aroma of spring hung in the misty morning air. The cracked and buckled sidewalk beneath her feet was covered with a fine yellow film of pollen cast off from the thick oak trees lining Fourth Street. Even a few of the cars parked along the curb were laden with the stuff. It was a sure sign that spring had taken hold in New Orleans when cars could be seen darting about the city with the same yellow sheen.
She made her way past the many opulent Garden District homes, yawning repeatedly. Jazzmyn had spent most of the night tossing about in her bed. Images of Julian, and even Odette’s painting, kept wafting in and out of her mind. But the real reason for her restless sleep was not her growing interest in Julian, but her unexpected reaction to Kyle’s kiss. Where had that come from? She knew she cared for Kyle, but want him? Feel desire for him? She had never felt that for him in the past. Well, that wasn’t completely true. There was that one night. Jazzmyn always believed it was the tequila, and not passion, that had motivated their tryst. Now, she wasn’t so
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